Stanley and Going North

Port Stanley and the trip North

There was excitement in the Drake Passage on Thursday, February 4 as we approached the Falklands. Waves were 20 feet high, or higher. Many passengers confined themselves to their cabins. A dramatic moment occurred when, with the roll of the ship, enormous waves crashed onto the deck outside the dining room on the 7th floor. Dishes and glassware went sliding. Alice managed to save her food, which was trying to make an exit from the table. The staff acted reflexively fast, and there was little breakage. The whole thing happened so fast that we were momentarily stunned by the drama: those were super huge waves! We broke out in spontaneous applause that we'd come through unscathed. And surely we were not the only ones to give a thought to the perils encountered by the early explorers to this part of the world, and be grateful for our seaworthy ship with its safety technologies.

On February 5 we arrived at the Falkland Islands and its capital, Port Stanley. We were lucky: it's possible for our ship to land in the Falklands only about 20% of the time, due to rough seas. The harbor area is too small for the ship, so we take the long tender ride into the town. Less than 3,000 people live in the Falklands, although it is the size of Connecticut. There are two major islands and almost 700 small islands, most uninhabited. About 2,500 people live in the little town of Stanley.

Stanley has modest houses with lovely English flower gardens; most homes appear to have greenhouse-like appendages, which we later learn allow the residents to grow their own vegetables, as it's very expensive to import them. We are on the island to visit a Rock Hopper Penguin colony. These small penguins are on the Murrell Farm, 20 minutes outside of Stanley. It's a "modest" farm, "only" 10,000 acres, with lots of sheep and cows roaming in sparse grasses. The penguins are quite a distance from the fields across barren, stone-studded, uneven terrain. To navigate this very rough 12-mile route, we are loaded into 4x4 vehicles for the one-hour ride (each way, meaning our speed was only 5 to 15 miles an hour) to the colony on the coast. Tightly packed on hard seats, we lurch and bounce over the peaty heavily-rutted moor. The low-growing Lee Bush--whose tiny bright red fruit, called Diddle Dee berries, is used by the locals to make jam--is the primary greenery.

The penguins are perched on dark gray rocky cliffs overlooking the sea. Since they don't fly, it's a long and awkward climb for them from the sea to their nests. We observe mostly fuzzy gray adolescent chicks, with a few black and white parents standing guard. These penguins, one of five varieties, have V-shaped white eyebrows that give them a fierce look. The majority of parent penguins are out fishing to get dinner for their young. We have an hour with the penguins; like them we are buffeted by chilly winds. Then we have another hour-long rough ride back to the farm, and then we go on into Stanley in the 4x4s.

The island is independent, but it has a British military base to forestall another invasion. The Falkland war, in 1982, is evidenced by a memorial, abandoned watch towers, and a number of unexploded land mines left behind by the Argentines. Because we have visited the Falklands, our ship cannot go directly to Buenos Aires. Argentina not only will not trade with the Falklands, it does not allow ships that have visited the Falklands to come directly to Argentina from there. Ships carrying produce and other supplies used to come to the Falklands from Chile to Stanley before going on to Argentina, but now the ships tend to bypass the Falklands because, given the small market for goods, it's not worth a visit if the much larger Argentine market would not admit them. It was surprising that, nearly 35 years after the war, the conflict is still affecting the Falklanders so much. The subject is frequently in conversations. The Argentinians (called "Arggies" for short by some of the Falklanders) apparently coveted the islands' fishing industry and oil reserves.

We explore a supermarket in Stanley and observe how expensive produce is; it is no wonder that residents grow as much as they can. On the other hand, the meats available--especially the beef, lamb and mutton--look very good and are not much different in price than in the U.S. We are told that there was a shortage of eggs in the Falklands until the following week, and that our ship supplied all its extra eggs to help out. This will not be a hardship, as our ship will be able to re-supply in Montevideo. WiFi was sporadically available in Stanley, but at a ridiculous price; we continue to ask our friends' and families' forebearance, as we are not yet able to respond to your individual emails. (Maybe in Montevideo or Buenos Aires there will be liberal access? We can only hope.)

On Friday evening, we attend a Jewish Sabbat service on board, as we have become friendly with the ship's rabbi and his wife and are interested in learning more about the Jewish faith. There were about a dozen Jewish passengers in attendance and we enjoyed the service and the simple refreshments following, including, to our delight, gefilte fish, mandelbrot (delicious almond-based biscotti-like treats) and rugelach (crust rolled up like croissants, filled with nuts and honey). We later had dinner with this group in the main dining room and enjoyed the warmth of the people and their excellent lively conversation. Among them were two sisters from South Africa now living in Toronto, a retired Las Vegas-based pawnbroker named Henry who told an amazing story about finding his long-lost sister following the Holocaust, and a man named Nyron who, until retirement, headed the Far East office of the Associated Press. (When asked what news source he considers most reliable, he said The Financial Times--and expressed concern that the Chinese had recently bought it.)

We continue to play duplicate bridge when schedule permits, and are pleased to report that we are scoring in the middle of the pack, among some mighty strong contenders. There can be plenty of drama during a "silent" bridge game!

We are now sailing toward Montevideo, Uruguay--due to dock tomorrow. Then we'll backtrack to visit Buenos Aires on February 9. This is Super Bowl Sunday--and we will see the game if the satellite connection holds up. It will start here at 8:30 PM our time, as we are two time zones East of US Eastern time.

We are still in awe of the sights we saw in the Antarctic. In the Weddell Sea, for example, we saw a 130-mile-long iceberg that broke off from the Southern ice shelf. The National Science Foundation has placed a GPS on the iceberg, and has been tracking its movements for the last 10 years. We passengers still marvel about our astonishing experience, talking more about that than about our anticipation of the many outstanding (and warmer!) venues yet to be visited--though, of course, we do talk about the Zika virus, coming our way in Brazil. We will be traveling in the epicenter of the outbreak, and are ready with our DEET. The ship's leaders are keeping us informed, vigilant and as safe as possible. We learn today from another passenger that while 130 of our merry band, who enrolled for just the first half of the trip, will be disembarking at Buenos Aires, there will be only 30 new passengers boarding to take the second half of the South America circumnavigation. We wonder if this is because of the fear of exposure to Zika. If the problem is not brought under control, the economic impact to Brazil and other affected countries will be huge. We have heard that currently only Chile and Canada are considered "safe" in this hemisphere.